


I Can Fix It!

by rocket_diving



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Wreck-It Ralph Fusion, Completely AU, Felix AIN'T Dead Dammit, Humor, M/M, Neverland Husbands, Panlix - Freeform, Romance, Snogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocket_diving/pseuds/rocket_diving
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unapologetically AU fic used to correct the wrongs of 3x11, namely Felix's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Fix It!

The moon was full and bright, and Peter Pan could see the fog of his own breath as he trudged along. Having committed to memory the path he followed, Peter’s thoughts distracted him as he made his way through the woods.

Winter was just around the corner for Storybrooke. Neverland didn’t cycle through the seasons as other worlds. Caught in the apex of time, it was eternally spring on the island. The night wind blew cold and cutting, and Peter wondered what it would be like to experience a proper winter again. Probably as irritating and unpleasant as he recalled in some distant, ancient memory. His thoughts strayed to Felix and whether or not the recently departed Lost Boy had ever seen snow. 

His hand absently touched the tool secured to his belt, the familiar shape of cool wood and much colder metal a comforting weight against his hip. By now, Rumple would have noticed it had gone missing, ruddy organized hoarder that his son was, after all. And it couldn’t be much longer before Rumple’s doe-eyed girl caved in and blurted out everything - it figured his son would take up with a bleeding heart who was a little too smart and honest for her own good.

 _Why_ , she’d spat with all of her misguided notions of bravery as she’d held him at gunpoint, _Why should I help you? Why would I ever give you a magical artifact, let alone one from Rumple’s collection? And why would you even want that of all things?_

He’d smiled slowly, his expression blossoming dark and weary (and ever so arrogant) across his wan cheeks. _Oh, you shouldn’t. Fact is, you should probably pull the trigger and let Fate sort the mess. But I’m pretty sure that by now you've already worked it **all** out in that clever little head of yours. So, I think we both know you’re going to give it to me._

And she had, of course.

Pan hated relying on intangibles, but by the time he’d gotten back to the pawn shop, the last of his magic had run-out. He’d had little choice other than to take Belle’s word that she would give him a head start as she pressed the hammer into his hands, her eyes a shining, misty blue.

Presently, Peter arrived at the well where the curse had been cast - no evidence remained of the evil deed performed, the air around it was still and silent. He continued past and further into the trees, where he knew Felix lie.

He hadn’t bothered with a proper monument to house Felix’s corpse; while Peter himself did enjoy putting on a good show when there was an audience, practicality sometimes took precedence when he was left to his own devices. And given the time-frame in which he had to operate, it had been necessary to leave the body unguarded in the forest a short distance from where he’d taken Felix’s heart. 

Pan dropped beside the tarp covered mound, the ground crunching hard against his knees. Pine needles and frozen leaves were sent scattering as he yanked back the makeshift cover and bared Felix’s still form to the cold, moonlit night.

The other boy was ghastly pale, his face etched with a fitful expression - with his eyes closed, Felix looked like he might simply be caught up in a nasty dream. He was otherwise unchanged… and Pan was rather pleased with himself that he’d had the foresight to place the preservation spell upon Felix that night, when he’d still had the magic to do so.

Peter busied himself with tugging the dirty tarp the rest of the way off of Felix, even as his free hand loosened the clasp holding the hammer at his waist. Once Felix lay stretched out before him, Pan sat back on his heels as his brooding gaze shifted between the dead boy and the hammer.

He wasn’t entirely certain how the artifact worked - it seemed a little too straightforward to simply clock Felix upside the head (and if he was wrong, that was going to have messy and perhaps irreparable results). Pan breathed a heavy, airy sigh through his nose as he glared imploringly at the golden hued hammer. Nothing about it denoted any magical properties, no twinge nor glimmer nor pulse.

Peter sighed more loudly a second time, and pressing his lips together he leaned forward, taking hold of one of Felix’s hands in his own. The Boy’s skin was icy, his fingers stiff - Pan nearly flinched at the sensation, and he ground his teeth as he forced Felix’s hand around the handle of the hammer.

Laying his own warmer palms on top, Peter spared one final look at Felix’s unchanged features. “You bloody well better be able to fix-it, Felix,” he muttered in a tone that was half-threatening and half-pleading.

With that, Peter swung down and nailed Felix squarely on the nose with the head of the golden hammer.

There was an odd noise, a brief, cheerful, artificial _chirrup!_ , accompanied by a flash of golden light, and then—

"Nnn.. No..!" 

"Felix..!" 

"…Peter!"

**_Crack!_ **

"Ow!"

"Peter?"

Pan gave a hiss of pain as he rubbed his aching brow. He peered up at Felix with his other uninjured and uncovered eye, and saw the other boy was sitting up and mimicking his gesture. “A few centimeters more and you would have broken my nose, Felix. A fine hello!”

Felix frowned a bit though he didn’t respond. He rubbed the spot where their foreheads had collided, his sight even and unwavering as he regarded Pan. He seemed hesitant to speak, but as Peter made no further move, he eventually broke the silence. “I was dead,” he started slowly, his voice a bit hoarse.

Peter lowered his hand, his mouth pressed into a firm line and chin tilted upward. “In a manner of speaking… yes.”

The taller boy swallowed audibly at that admission, his jaw flexing as his teeth clenched. When he spoke again, his words were careful and measured and _almost_ non-accusatory. “You _took_ my heart.”

"I did," Peter conceded once more. His eyebrows twitched upward at the end of that short statement, challenging as ever. "What, do you want an apology or something, Felix?" A stubborn sneer twisted his lips and he laughed unkindly.

Felix remained silent, his own hand lowering as he simply stared at Peter Pan. Something seemed to be changing in the depths of Felix’s pale eyes in the span of those short seconds that passed between them; there was a meaning in that look that Felix had never before directed at Peter Pan. Something important was slowly shifting in a way that was going to be irreversible forever if Peter didn’t do something to stop it.

"I won’t lie to you and say I’m sorry," Peter began lowly, his words sharp at the edges. "But we both know that I _never_ break my promises, Felix, not to **you** ,” he continued on vehemently, his eyes widening as he stared hard. “So when I said we would be together after the Curse was cast, well…” Pan flashed a rough semblance of a grin as his eyebrows arched. “You know I always find a way.”

Behind his bravado, Peter Pan desperately willed some sign that Felix accepted his words and that things might go back to the way they had always been between them. Until now, it hadn’t occurred to Pan that he might never again experience that comfortable ease and familiarity that only came with Felix… And faced with the prospect, he found he waited on baited breath for Felix’s response.

Felix’s gaze searched his for another moment or so before his eyes finally softened, and he smiled in that achingly honest and gentle way of his, that smile that was reserved only for Peter Pan - and how greedy for it Peter felt at this moment! An echo of something akin to sadness yet remained, but that would be dealt with over time.

More importantly, they had basic needs to be met. Pan saw the unchecked shiver that wracked Felix’s thin frame and instinctively grabbed the other boy’s arm. Pan’s knees were stiff from the seeping cold of the ground and Felix was altogether uncoordinated as he sought to shake the remaining pins and needles (as well as the chill) from his limbs. They leaned heavily upon one another as they rose.

They initially exchanged no further words; fleeting looks and slight gestures were all they required to unify their thoughts. They walked against one another for warmth, Felix’s long arm and cloak draped over Peter’s shoulders, Pan’s own arm braced against Felix’s back and his hand curled with splayed fingers against Felix’s side. They needed food and shelter, which meant there was little choice other than for Peter to lead them back the way he’d come, toward Storybrooke.

"How?" Felix asked, the word a soft, white cloud dispersing in the cold air as he broke their silence once more. Peter looked up at Felix, the Lost Boy’s face partially obscured by the cowl of his cloak and partially illuminated by the moonlight. His confusion was evident in his furrowed brow and introspective expression. "How did you bring me back?"

"For every job there exists the proper tool," Pan answered vaguely, conscious of the hammer he’d replaced at his hip. "Why, afraid you’re dreaming, Felix?"

"Maybe," Felix replied with dry humor and a breathless laugh.

They continued onward, stumbling over loose stones and jutting tree roots, catching one another and breathing heavily against their combined weight. Felix lifted his free hand, pushing aside low hanging branches that scraped at their clothes. As they ducked their heads, Felix spoke again slowly.

"So…" Felix’s breath rushed warm against Peter’s cold cheek, tickled his jaw and barely whispered against his throat. Already close together as they sought to preserve body-heat, Peter felt each word more than he heard them. "You _love_ me.”

Such profound, unfulfilled longing ran as a current beneath Felix’s practiced monotone that Peter Pan literally missed a step. Felix’s arms ensnared him however, held him up and clung to him more tightly than was necessary. 

Forced to answer and finding himself unprepared for such a conversation, Peter balked, the tone of his response a lash that was intended to wound. “I’d be careful about that admission. The last time you spat out similar words, well, it didn’t end very well for you, _did it_?” 

Felix’s eyes narrowed at the snide retort but his scar shifted as a smile began to lift the corner of his mouth. “That.. was not a ‘no’.”

Peter scowled though it was panic that shown in his eyes as he moved to shove away and break free of Felix’s embrace. “Don’t be boorish — **Felix**?!”

The taller boy had caught his hand, turning his arm and securing it behind Pan’s back in one swift motion. Peter never considered how much faster and stronger Felix would be if the playing field were level. Without magic, Pan was quickly learning.

Flush against Felix’s chest, he could feel the recently restored heart beating fast and strong and betraying Felix’s otherwise composed countenance as Pan tilted his head to stare up at his loyal Lost Boy. Behind his back, he felt Felix’s long fingers entwine with his own. 

Felix leaned in closer, his steely eyes piercing and his mouth far too close as the first few snowflakes drifted around them. Pan felt his resistance waning and his strength sapped from him as Felix’s lips tentatively brushed his own, and was starkly reminded of the weakness of love as he felt his body responding of its own accord by rising up to seek Felix’s kiss.

Restraint was immediately abandoned and their kiss turned eager and frantic. Peter grabbed a fistful of Felix’s threadbare scarf, forcing him closer and catching Felix’s lower lip with his teeth more than once. Felix’s free hand curled around his throat, just under his jaw, his hip digging into Pan’s waist. Their mouths were hot and crushing, their breaths little more than shared gasps, and when Felix moaned it thrummed through Pan in a way that was completely mind-blowing.

This was absolutely a weakness.

And Peter Pan suddenly found that he truly couldn’t care less.

"Hands where we can see them - move it!!" Shouting accompanied the sound of multiple guns being cocked at once; it jolted Peter and Felix from their heated moment.

With a soft, wet noise, Felix’s lips parted from Pan’s and he opened his eyes to blink at the source of the interruption and then rather owlishly down at Peter. “But… I thought you won,” Felix murmured, his disoriented voice and reddened lips fanning Pan’s ego, even if the upcoming admission was less satisfying.

"Yeah, that Curse? We broke it," Emma snipped, keeping her gun trained on the them as she reached for the handcuffs clipped to her belt. Charming mirrored her actions, while Rumplestiltskin and Belle kept a safe distance behind. "In _record_ time,” she added for good measure.

Hook stared pointedly at Peter, hiking up his belt and aiming a victorious (and yet somehow still lewd) smirk at him. “True love and all that, mate,” the Captain chimed in. 

Pan managed to refrain from rolling his eyes as he sighed. Untangling himself from Felix, he slowly raised his hands in the air. “Unfortunately, they are correct. I also find myself currently lacking in magic,” he begrudgingly admitted.

Charming and Emma slowly approached with cuffs open and guns still at the ready, their intentions clear.

Felix kept his eyes fixed on Peter. “Our next move?”

"Share a warm cell and a hot meal, _continue where we were before we were interrupted_ , and figure out the rest in the morning, Felix,” Pan replied flippantly, offering a cheeky smile to Emma as she snapped the hand-cuffs around his wrists and plucked the golden hammer from his belt.

Charming and Felix both had the decency to flush at Pan’s words, and neither made eye contact as the cuffs were fitted around Felix’s wrists as well.

As Hook and Charming led the two captives away, Emma ambled back to Rumple and Belle, holding out the recovered hammer. ”Any idea what **that** was all about?”

"Ms Swan, I have no idea to what you are referring," Rumple intoned with general ill humor, as he took the golden tool and carefully wrapped it in a bit of terrycloth. 

"That was a hundred years plus of unrequited, unfulfilled love," Belle explained with patient, barely subdued wistfulness. "I find it to be quite romantic."

“ _Honestly_ , Belle, not this _again_!” Rumple bemoaned miserably.

Emma decided it was better not to push the issue.

**Author's Note:**

> __  
>  **The end!**   
>  _This story was based off of one of my Crack!Theories:_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> http://rocket-diving.tumblr.com/post/68755748786/ouat-crack-theory-6  
>     
>  _And the other half missing piece: Fix-It Felix and Sergeant Calhoun had a child that was a glitch - Felix (OUAT). To save his son, Fix-It Felix made a deal with Rumple; in exchange for his hammer, Rumple took the child to a different world where he would be safe. And then Pan stole him, because Pan’s a little shit like that._
> 
> _It’s all Disney - SO IT COULD HAPPEN._


End file.
